


Tsukimi

by asael



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-20
Updated: 2015-05-06
Packaged: 2018-03-29 08:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3889279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asael/pseuds/asael





	1. Chapter 1

The cherry trees were blooming, and Hibari hated it. He'd heard all the arguments in favor of cherry blossom trees, and he was still certain they were a pox on humanity. They were beautiful, yes, but if he had to pick another stray petal out of his hair, he was going to kill something. Conveniently, he'd brought his gun with him today.

It was his first week at his new job, and his first week in this city. Hibari was learning quickly, though, as his new partner was a local. They'd been assigned to a calm area of the city, good for a newly transferred cop to start off in. It seemed nearly crimeless - the most they'd had to do was issue a few speeding tickets and warn crosswalkers.

Hibari had known something about the city he was transferring into before he came, but the majority of the picture was still blank. He knew that the previous chief of police had been waging a war against the city's organized crime, which had resulted in a rather high fatality rate on the force – including, of course, the chief of police, neatly strangled in his bed one night.

The new chief was young and inexperienced, and had backed down from direct conflict in favor of rebuilding the force.

That was why Hibari was here. His disagreements with his superior at his previous post hadn't disqualified him, and it suited him perfectly to work alone for now.

He just wished it were a little less boring.

The area he patrolled was quiet enough to make someone suspicious – and Hibari was. At the beginning of the week, he had noted that one small apartment building seemed to have more comings and goings than would be expected. He'd kept an eye on it since then, and today he planned to find out why. 

By marching right through the door. 

It was absolutely not condoned by the police department, which was why he was doing it on his day off. But he was no fool, and so he had his gun with him. Concerns over things like 'safety' and 'not sparking another inner-city war' were not really Hibari's style.

The outside of the building was nondescript. It was about five stories high, and the front walk to the entrance was lined with the cherry trees that were currently the bane of Hibari's existence. The only thing strange about it was that all the shades on the front of the building were pulled shut, and there was a pale yellow circle painted on the door - a moon, maybe. The door wasn't locked, though, and before Hibari entered he ran a hand through his hair to dislodge any stray petals.

He wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected to find when he strode into the building. A drug den, maybe, despite the outwardly perfect appearance of the building. A criminal's squat wouldn't have surprised him either. Instead, the inside of the apartment building was, if anything, even nicer than the outside. The walls were wood-paneled and dark, and the carpet was a deep red. It was plush beneath his boots, which Hibari rather disliked.

There was a desk just inside the entrance, and that was about all there was. It was in a small room with a door in the back wall, clearly more of a reception area than anything else. Hibari's hand was on his gun, but the man at the desk looked uninterested and unafraid, his eyes behind fashionable glasses flickering over Hibari. He didn't move, and before Hibari could demand any answers, he spoke.

"You're that cop," he said, no trace of any particular interest in his voice. "The boss said he wanted to see you when you finally decided to come in. I'll give him a call."

Hibari scowled. "Who's your boss?" he demanded, resisting the instant urge to beat the information out of him. Obviously something was going on, and Hibari had no interest in walking into a trap.

The man gave him a look that was almost amused. "You don't know?" was all he said before he picked up the phone. "Yes, Mukuro-san? Your guest is here." He was silent for a moment. "All right."

He looked at Hibari again for a moment before perfunctorily dismissing him with a "Wait here."

Hibari gritted his teeth, but it seemed he had no other choice. This man was obviously unwilling to share any information, and seeing as how Hibari was definitely not on his own turf, beating it out of him had a high possibility of ending badly.

Luckily for everyone, Hibari did not have to wait long. After only a few minutes, the door next to the desk opened, and a scowling blond boy looked Hibari over. "Come on," he said, a sneer in his voice.

Hibari scowled right back, but followed.

They went through the door and down the hall, the surly blond boy not bothering to look back and make sure Hibari was following him. He glanced at the doors they passed, counting four on each side, every one shut tight. That only made Hibari more suspicious. If the doors were closed, there must be something hiding behind them.

He would find out what it was.

He was lead to the small elevator at the end of the hall. Once they'd both entered, the boy hit the button for the top floor. Hibari glanced at the keypad, noting that there were five floors, and spent the rest of the ride fingering his gun and ignoring the dirty glances his guide was giving him.

The top floor was only slightly different, at least at first glance. The hallway was shorter, with one door on either side and one larger sliding shoji door at the end. Hibari followed his guide to the door, which was unceremoniously pushed opened. The blond boy yelled in, "Mukuro-san, your guest is here."

Hibari was not pleased by the tone in which 'guest' was said, and he was getting more and more impatient with all this nonsense. He pushed past the boy and entered the room, ignoring the angry squawking coming from behind him.

He was surprised to find a Japanese-style room in the middle of this otherwise very Western building, though perhaps he shouldn't have been, given the door - latticed paper, like one would find in the most traditional of homes. The floor was tatami, and to his own vague disgust he found himself slipping out of his shoes - ingrained habit, even if he had no desire to be respectful. The room was rather small, and it was clearly only part of a larger suite. The reception room, he supposed.

A low, laquered table sat in the middle of the room. On one side was a cushion embroidered with a pattern of chrysanthemums, clearly meant for Hibari - since on the other side sat a man.

From his relaxed posture and slight smile, Hibari felt he could comfortably assume that this was Mukuro. This man was fully, irritatingly aware that he had the upper hand, which only made Hibari want to punch him in the face. He resisted the urge and instead looked Mukuro over.

He wore an extremely expensive looking and flashy kimono, patterned with what looked like a phoenix and tied loosely in the front. Hibari's eyes narrowed. The man wasn't even Japanese.

Mukuro gestured at the cushion across from him, raising an eyebrow at Hibari. The smile - or rather, smirk - never faltered. "Won't you sit down? I've made tea."

"Who are you?" Hibari asked, in no mood for playing anyone's games. "What is this place?"

"Sit down, and we can have a little talk. It's rude to refuse an offer of hospitality," Mukuro said with a laugh. "I promise you won't be harmed."

"There's no reason for me to trust your promises," Hibari said, blunt. The way Mukuro's kimono was practically slipping off his shoulder, baring far too much collarbone, made him even more short-tempered.

Mukuro shrugged, adjusting his kimono a little, and Hibari looked back up at his face. "You haven't got much of a choice. You came all the way in here, after all." He leaned forward, lifting a small teapot to fill two delicate cups, and pushing one across the table towards Hibari. "If I don't want you to leave, you won't." The corners of his lips curved up again.

Hibari sat down with ill grace. It may be true, but he didn't have to like it. Still, he wanted answers from this man. Without thinking about it, he picked up the wistera-patterned teacup in front of him and sipped, scowling at the taste. It was made perfectly.

"My name is Rokudo Mukuro," Mukuro said, smiling even more - probably at Hibari's displeased expression. "I own this establishment. And you are Hibari Kyoya, the new officer on the force who obviously hasn't been told anything."

"Is that supposed to impress me? Anyone can find out a name." Hibari didn't like Mukuro's assumption that he knew nothing. It rankled particularly badly because it was true. "What is this place? There's something going on here."

"See, now, that's exactly what I mean. The force must be hurting if they don't even have time to get you up to speed." Mukuro looked at him measuringly. "Surely you know of the Millefiore?"

Hibari tensed at the name. The group that ruled the city's underworld - and reportedly much of the aboveboard business as well. The group whose leader had had the last police chief killed and the force decimated. "You're connected with the Millefiore?"

"No," Mukuro said, waving a hand casually, as if it were nothing. "I'm a free agent, though they do come here occasionally. I just wanted to make sure you weren't running completely blind. This is a brothel, Kyoya."

"I didn't give you permission to use my name," Hibari said, ignoring Mukuro's smirk. "You run a whorehouse..." Looking Mukuro over, it certainly made sense. The man looked born to sin. Hibari let his frown deepen - which scared most people, but apparently not Mukuro. "That's definitely illegal."

Mukuro poured Hibari more tea, in the process allowing his kimono to slip nearly off his shoulder entirely. "Oh, don't you worry. Your superiors know all about this place." He smiled brilliantly. "In fact, that cute little boss of yours was just here a few days ago."

Hibari tried not to think about the naive young new chief of police doing unmentionable things with Rokudo Mukuro. It was, sadly, all too easy to imagine. "If they know about you, they should shut you down."

"And lose the only source of fun in this city that's not Millefiore-controlled? Not likely," Mukuro said with a laugh.

That was obviously not the only reason. Hibari still knew very little about the politics of the city, but if an establishment like this was allowed to stay in business, there must be other reasons. He assumed Mukuro must have blackmail material on most of the powerful men in the city.

"If you're so secure, then why am I here?" Hibari asked, looking directly at Mukuro - and definitely not at his pale bare shoulder.

"Because I want to make a deal." Mukuro met his eyes, dropping the smile and looking completely businesslike. "You've been assigned to this area. Most of our business takes place in this building, but not all of it, and not all of my employees live here. I want the assurance that if something happens, here or outside, and we need you to help, you won't decide that we don't deserve it because we're just whores." Mukuro's voice was even, but his eyes didn't waver and there was a hint of anger behind everything that Hibari couldn't ignore. "And don't bother insisting that you'd never do that, you'll treat everyone the same because you're good and righteous. That means nothing in a place like this."

Hibari suppressed his initial flash of anger. He didn't generally care about viewing a situation from both sides, but he understood that (at least this time), Mukuro hadn't meant to offend him. The other man lived in a world Hibari recognized, a world where no one would do anything for free.

Mukuro smiled again, though the chill wasn't completely gone from his eyes. "Of course, I'm not asking for protection. We can do that ourselves. This assurance would only be for extraordinary circumstances. The rest of the time, all I ask is that you let us be and don't interfere."

Hibari looked at him for a long time before he spoke. "And if I say no?"

"Then you'll be gone," Mukuro said, and left it at that.

Gone from this area, this city, or this life? Hibari didn't ask, but if what Mukuro had said was true, any of them were possible. If this place wasn't under Millefiore control yet, it was because Mukuro had enough strength to keep it free, and if he could do that, he could get rid of one police officer without wasting any effort. Hibari wasn't afraid of this man, but he also had no reason to refuse the deal. So far. "What's the rest?"

"What's in it for you, you mean?" Mukuro relaxed, on familiar ground, and looked Hibari over. "Well, besides the right to live happily in your old hometown, what do you expect?"

Hibari's back stiffened. It wasn't the offer, but rather the implication in the rest of the words that bothered him. His old hometown? How did Mukuro know that? Hibari's family had moved from the city before he started junior high, and he hadn't been back since.

He didn't have long to think about it, though, because Mukuro moved from his side of the table, settling next to Hibari fluidly. He made hardly a sound beyond the rustling of garments. Now he was much too close, close enough that Hibari could feel the warmth of his skin and smell the scent of whatever soap he used - Hibari tried not to think that it smelled rather good.

It was extremely distracting, as was the way Hibari couldn't quite tear his eyes away from the curve of Mukuro's neck, the fall of his long hair.

"Now," Mukuro spoke, soft and intimate, "you could have any of my employees. And I rarely take clients personally these days... but I'm willing to make an exception for you."

Hibari wanted to ask why, but then Mukuro's lips brushed against his throat and he couldn't breathe anymore. Some inner voice was berating him, telling him to push Mukuro away and leave - he didn't even like this man!

He ignored it. It was true, he didn't like Mukuro. The man was superior, irritating, and a criminal. Hibari didn't like him at all.

But he'd known from the moment he walked in and laid eyes on Mukuro that he wanted him. He wanted to push Mukuro down, make him beg, find something more useful for that annoying perfect mouth to do.

Without realizing it, Hibari found himself with one hand tangled in Mukuro's hair, pulling the other man roughly into a proper kiss. His lips were soft and he tasted like tea, and Hibari was about to get in way over his head when he felt the cell phone at his side vibrating.

It was the station, of course. Only his work had this number. All Hibari wanted to do for a moment was turn the phone off and continue, and that was what really shocked him to his senses.

He pushed Mukuro away, not very gently, and stood. Appearing unaffected, Mukuro rose to his feet as well and smiled at Hibari. Hibari couldn't help noticing his flushed cheeks and disarranged hair, and had to concentrate hard to ignore his own body's demands.

"Duty calls, I see. Well, I won't stop you." Mukuro stepped closer. "You know where to find me, Kyoya. I'll see you later."

Hibari was irritated to realize that Mukuro was taller than he was, and then Mukuro kissed him again. He wouldn't allow it to distract him this time, but he wouldn't deny himself all pleasure either - this time, he kissed Mukuro and bit his lip hard before pulling away.

He glanced back only once as he was leaving, long enough to see Mukuro lick the blood off his lip and smile, a smile full of pleasure and desire.

Hibari could think of nothing else for the rest of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

A day in the life: get up, get dressed, manage any sudden emergencies that happened to arise while he slept. Make sure his employees were all well and ready for business. Entertain any important personages who happened to stop by. Drink lots of tea or lots of sake, depending on who was there, and make sure the day goes smoothly for everyone. Go to bed as the sun begins to peek its head over the horizon.

The owner of a whorehouse kept late hours.

Mukuro felt certain that this day would be much more trying than the one that had come before it. Yesterday had been so easy - no big problems, and he'd met the new officer in the area. Hibari Kyoya looked like he'd end up being a lot of fun.

It hadn't been the first time they'd met, but Mukuro had not expected Hibari to remember. Still, the young boy he's once met had grown up... quite well.

But Mukuro thought it was unlikely Hibari would drop by so soon after their first meeting, and good thing, too. Mukuro's schedule had enough unpleasant things that he was certain he'd be in a bad mood before long.

He was reluctant even to get out of bed, but when Chrome brought him a light breakfast and a cup of coffee, he forced himself up. In a few hours, he had an appointment, and before then there were plenty of things to do.

Getting dressed was a task all on its own. Mukuro was not a particularly vain person, but he was a particularly calculating one, and he knew exactly how good his looks were. There was a very short list of people he'd allow to see him when he was less than perfect, and they all lived in this building. Mussed after some amazing sex was one thing - but tired, sick, messy, or even just unready was something else entirely. Even if all he had to do that day was oversee the brothel, Mukuro took pains to project the right image - and today he had much more to do.

Once he was dressed, the first part of the day was easy. Chikusa reported that nothing strange had happened during the night, and yesterday had been a slow day in general - after Hibari had visited in the afternoon, there hadn't been much business. Tonight was a Friday night, things would be much busier.

Preparing for that evening took a few hours, and by then it was time for his first appointment - the one he might actually enjoy. Sawada always did look so uncomfortable.

Mukuro was lounging on the tatami, letting the tea steep, when Ken showed the boy in. As always, his eyes were wide open, showing his discomfort and making him look very much like a deer caught in headlights. Mukuro wondered how anyone could have thought him capable of being chief of police in a town like this. But then, he was related to the mayor - nepotism at work. And Mukuro had to admit there hadn't really been anyone else foolish enough to take the job.

"Tsunayoshi," he said, letting the name roll off his tongue purely for the reaction he'd get. "So good to see you again." He poured the tea for them both, amused to see how Tsuna's eyes went from his hands to his exposed collarbone and then away, fast as lightning. Tsuna settled himself on the cushion opposite Mukuro, for all the world looking like he was about to get up and run.

The boy seemed to need time to form words, so Mukuro made a little small talk, gracious host that he was. "I met that lovely new officer you assigned to this neighborhood. Hibari Kyoya... I like him."

Tsuna seemed to gain a little composure and managed to sip his tea, though he couldn't meet Mukuro's eyes. "I thought you would."

"You thought I would? Why, Tsunayoshi, does that mean he's a gift? A little bribe to get me on your side?" Mukuro suppressed the smirk that came when he saw Tsuna redden and sit up straight.

"No! I would never do that! We assigned him here because he's new and it's safer. I wouldn't do that kind of thing to my men!"

"Well, it's true. I am a fate worse that death," Mukuro said, sighing with just the right amount of drama.

"No, that's not what I meant-" Tsuna was well and truly flustered now. "I just meant - I mean - I wouldn't do that, I don't need to! You'll do the right thing eventually, I know it. You're not a bad person, Mukuro-san."

Time for business, then. Mukuro didn't stop smiling, though he did stop deliberately letting his kimono slip down his shoulder (and watching Tsuna get redder with each centimeter of skin revealed).

"I am a bad person. You should at least know that by now. And why don't you tell me, Tsunayoshi, what is the 'right thing'?"

"You- you know what I'm talking about, Mukuro-san. He's about to go on trial! You must have something on him. You could help us put him away - you know we don't have enough evidence now-"

"I see... appealing to my sense of justice. But Byakuran and I have a truce, just as you and I do." A shaky truce, full of distrust and lies and small betrayals, but a truce nonetheless. "And I don't particularly care what he did to your old boss."

"But-"

Mukuro softened his voice, until anyone who didn't know him would have said he was being gentle. Of course, anyone who did know him knew that there was little actual gentleness in his personality. "There's nothing in it for me. Even if you managed to find an uncorrupt judge to put him away - which would amaze me - the remnants of the Millefiore would be gunning for me, and I just don't think that sounds like much fun." His voice hardened. "Besides, I've always been quite aware of exactly who in this city you'd go after if the Millefiore were out of the picture."

Tsuna paled. "That's not true!"

"So you'd promise us safety, continued operation, protection from the law? For how long? Just until you were replaced - that's all you could realistically give us. No, I'm afraid that's just not enough," Mukuro said, sitting back. "So I'll have to turn down your kind offer once again."

Reluctantly, Tsuna nodded, disappointment written across his schoolboy features. "Just think it over, please, Mukuro-san. We would protect you, and-" he went a little red, "-this place."

"Naturally, I'll think about it," Mukuro said, the same words he'd spoken so many times before. He smiled and very nearly batter his eyelashes at Tsuna. "Same time next week, then?"

Tsuna managed a little smile, though it was shaky. "Yeah, I'll come here again." He stood to leave.

"You really ought to stay a little longer one of these times, Tsunayoshi. You wouldn't regret it." Mukuro stood as well, and stepped smoothly towards Tsuna, who looked like he was about to break and run. "I'd be gentle... I'd even give you a discount." He smirked and stepped right into Tsuna's personal space, reaching out to run one finger down Tsuna's cheek.

Tsuna blanched and backed away quickly, stuttering, "I-I'll see you next week, Mukuro-san." It was about all he could manage in regards to politeness. Eyes wide, he turned and practically ran from the room.

Mukuro managed a bit more in the way of politeness - he didn't start laughing until Tsuna was gone, at least. As tedious as these regular meetings were, they at least provided some small entertainment. Tsuna was just too easy to tease - though that didn't speak wonders for his competence. Mukuro wouldn't bet his future on a boy who couldn't even talk to Mukuro without going as red as a tomato.

However, Tsuna's visits were at least generally more fun than those with his next visitor. Mukuro didn't bother having tea ready when Ken showed Genkishi in two hours later. Why be polite to someone who was only a representative?

Mukuro disliked it when Byakuran sent one of his minions instead of coming himself. It sent a message - that Byakuran did not think Mukuro was important enough to deal with personally. Each time he had done it before, Mukuro had taken pains to make him regret it. Not enough to damage their fragile truce, but enough to remind Byakuran that Mukuro was not one of his Millefiore lackies.

This time, however, he'd allow it. After all, Byakuran had no choice. His bail hearing wasn't until Monday.

Genkishi took the seat across from Mukuro, the same one Tsuna had used, observing him levelly. There was a slight frown on his face, and Mukuro was reminded of why he disliked Byakuran's underlings so much. They all seemed to believe that one day soon he'd run out of resources, tricks, and blackmail, and be forced to join Millefiore. It was the exact same reason he disliked Byakuran himself - except that he could actually get things accomplished when Byakuran was the one across the table.

Besides, Byakuran was much more fun.

"What's a nice boy like you doing in a place like this?" Mukuro asked lazily, barely deigning to look at Genkishi.

"You know why I'm here," Genkishi replied, no hint of humor in his voice. "Byakuran sent me. You have an opportunity to help him out." The look he gave Mukuro made it clear that he honestly considered it a favor that Byakuran was doing for him.

"Oh, do I?" Mukuro said, smiling just a little and imagining how Genkishi might look drowning in his own blood. "Why, that was so thoughtful of him. I'd be terribly happy to help. What does he want? Chocolate cake with a nail file baked into it? Soap on a rope? A conjugal visit?"

A flicker of disgust crossed Genkishi's face, but he wasn't the type to stray from business. "You know what he wants. The judge for his trial is being decided -"

"And he wants me to make sure they pick someone who's easy to manipulate. Someone who's already under my thumb, or his." Mukuro licked his lips and smiled. "No thanks, I'll pass on this exciting one-time opportunity."

Genkishi stiffened and frowned at Mukuro. "Don't be so flippant. Byakuran will get sick of your attitude one of these days."

"Byakuran didn't actually expect me to agree to your little offer," Mukuro said, a certain hardness in his eyes as he looked at Genkishi. "He's aware that I'm choosing to remain neutral in this pathetic debacle. He'd need to offer a lot more than he has to make me change my mind. And what has he offered in exchange for my help? Oh, that's right. Nothing."

"If you help him now, then when you come crawling to us, begging him to let you join, he might just have mercy," Genkishi said, and the gaze he rested on Mukuro was familiar - a mix of contempt and anger.

Mukuro only laughed. "Don't hold your breath. Or rather, please do. I've never seen a man asphyxiate himself before, and it might be fun. Now, I believe we're done here. You know the way out... unless you'd like to stay and enjoy yourself for awhile." He smiled, a careful, self-satisfied smile. "Not with me, of course, but I'm sure you could find someone willing to accomodate you." The smile turned into a smirk. "No discounts."

Genkishi stood, clearly not at all disappointed to be leaving. He didn't say anything, just looking at Mukuro in disgust for a moment longer before he turned to go. Mukuro spoke to his back.

"Tell your boss to come himself next time. I have some new shochu I'm sure he'd like, and I'd rather if he didn't waste my time like this again."

Mukuro got no response, but he saw the line of Genkishi's shoulders stiffen before he left, closing the shoji door none too gently. It was difficult to slam sliding doors, however.

The meeting was quickly put out of Mukuro's mind. It had been mostly pointless, and he had better thing to do. The weekend was always a busy time, and now there were even more things that Mukuro had to attend to personally. With Byakuran's upcoming trial, the precarious balance that offered him and his establishment a secure base to work from threatened to collapse.

He didn't truly believe that young, shy Sawada would be able to put Byakuran in prison, with or without his help, but Mukuro had to be prepared for all possibilities. So his weekend was spent making sure that he would be able to weather an all-out war between the remnants of Millefiore and the city officials.

Mukuro's chief weapon was blackmail, but he wouldn't hesitate to use more brutal means if necessary. He would do his best to make sure it didn't come to that, though, because he was very aware that the men and women who worked for him were greatly outnumbered by the members of Millefiore - and most of their talents lay in other areas, anyway.

Sometimes Mukuro regretted employing lovers rather than fighters.

It wasn't an easy position to be in, but by the time the week began, Mukuro was fairly confident they could weather this storm. Between the dirt he had on city officials (mostly their sexual indiscretions, with some bribery mixed in - enough to ruin their careers at the very least), and what he had on Byakuran's underlings (generally evidence of theft, assault, or the occasional murder), he was prepared to secure the safety of himself and his employees, at least until the dust settled. When and if that happened, he'd need to make new plans depending on which side came out on top, but for now he could relax.

As much as he ever did, anyway. On Tuesday, Byakuran came to visit.

"It took you a whole day to come see me," Mukuro said after the white-haired man had made himself comfortable. "You'll break my heart like that, Byakuran." He smiled, pouring them both small cups of shochu and pushing one across the table to his guest.

Byakuran smirked, lifting his cup and tossing the alcohol back without a blink. "Now, now, don't cry. I had some sad little boys come running to me about all the problems that piled up while I was away." His voice was smooth and carefree, like he hadn't a thing to worry about in the world. "In fact, one of them told me you bullied him." He looked at Mukuro, almost pouting. "That wasn't very nice."

"I know. Poor Genkishi. He just can't stand up to anyone." Mukuro smiled and filling Byakuran's cup. "But weren't you just giving him busywork while you were gone? Really, Byakuran, if you can't find a judge that you can bribe yourself, then you deserve to go to prison."

This time Byakuran's pout was much more pronounced. "So mean, Mukuro." His eyes were sharp, though, and they didn't leave Mukuro's face - Mukuro was careful not to reveal any trace of discomfort. They'd been playing these games for years, so he was very good at it. "That new Sawada boy is such a nuisance. He has more and more people under his thumb, it's just not fair. Did you know he just managed to get one of his friends appointed district attorney? I just thought you might have a few things that I didn't."

"Hmm, I heard about that. Cavallone, right? Do you mean that Sawada is actually managing to keep your trial fairly clean?" Mukuro faked surprise, though he didn't try very hard. Both he and Byakuran knew that Mukuro's skill at gathering information was at least as good as Millefiore's, if not better, and they were both very aware that Sawada Tsunayoshi was beginning to show more and more backbone and talent at his job as time went on. Not enough to make Mukuro side with him, but enough to surprise the criminal elements of the city. 

"As it happens, I do have plenty of things you don't," he said, meeting Byakuran's eyes and smiling. "But I'd rather save them for when I need them."

Byakuran's eyes hardened, but he didn't lose his smile. "Ah, you're a cruel man, only looking out for yourself. I thought helping each other was what friends were for."

Mukuro smiled right back. "Are we friends? I didn't realize." He refilled both of their cups while Byakuran acted injured, then set the bottle down. "Please, we both know that was just meaningless busywork for Genkishi. If you want to bribe judges, you certainly don't need me to do it."

"But I wanted to remind you..." Byakuran's expression was suddenly close to serious, and Mukuro was careful not to flinch or look away, despite the danger he knew he was in. "Remind you of our truce."

And that was it, of course. The real reason Byakuran was here. He didn't really need or want Mukuro's help with his trial, he just didn't want Mukuro getting involved on the opposite side, either. Both he and Tsuna knew Mukuro had some sort of evidence pertaining to the crime - they just weren't sure what it was. Neither of them thought it was anything more than circumstantial, but even that would affect Byakuran's trial.

Mukuro had no intention of letting either of them know the truth.

It had been an accident, really. Just good--or bad--luck. The chief of police had given one of his usual press releases about eradicating crime, and Mukuro had decided that it was better to be safe. He'd arranged for some extra blackmail material, so that he could politely remind the man that while crime was certainly a good thing to eradicate, there were some things that must be left alone for everyone's benefit.

The chief was a semi-regular client, and like many of the the ones with higher positions, he preferred for his companions to come to him rather than risk the chance of being seen entering Mukuro's establishment. So the next time he'd scheduled his usual girl for a visit, Mukuro had sent Chikusa and Ken the day before.

While the owner of the house was out, they'd done the usual - positioning spyhole cameras carefully to be sure the action was caught, and wiring them to transmit back to Mukuro. They'd done it many times before, and as usual it went off without a hitch, police chief's house or not. The next day, Mukuro's girl visited her client, and it was all caught on camera. Simple, clean, and not at all out of the normal for Mukuro - if blackmail material didn't fall into his hands, he had no problem with creating it. She left, and Chikusa and Ken went the next day to remove the cameras.

Or rather, they normally would have. But that night, Byakuran had entered the man's bedroom while he was sleeping and strangled him. The moment he'd seen Byakuran's face clear as day on the video footage, Mukuro sent Chikusa and Ken to retrieve the cameras - as carefully as possible. He had no desire to get caught up in a crime like this. They were experts, and managed it well enough, but the murder of the chief of police was no joke - Mukuro still considered himself lucky that no trace of his men had been found at the crime scene. 

Part of that, he knew, was that Byakuran had left a message: a white lily on the man's chest. Everyone knew who had committed the murder, and the police hadn't bothered to look too much further. They had focused on finding evidence that could tie Byakuran directly to the crime, though even in that they hadn't had much luck - Byakuran had wanted to send a message, but he was no idiot.

Tsuna and Byakuran both knew that Mukuro had evidence of some kind, but if they knew he had video of the actual murder being carried out, he'd be in more trouble than he liked to think about. With evidence like that, Tsuna could be almost certain of putting Byakuran in prison for at least long enough to disable most of Millefiore's operations. And Byakuran... well, if Mukuro let Byakuran know he had that video, he might as well just kill himself now and save the crime boss the trouble.

He'd taken precautions, of course. If Mukuro died, the video would be sent immediately to the DA's office. That didn't matter, though, because most of all Mukuro did not WANT to die, and even with that insurance for his life, Mukuro knew the moment Byakuran was out of danger he'd find a way to dispose of that particular threat. If he knew about it.

It was the strongest piece of blackmail Mukuro had ever obtained in his life, and the only one he could never, ever reveal that he had. The best course of action was to lay low and not let anyone know he had that video - if Mukuro had been anyone else, he might have destroyed it, but that was against his very nature. He didn't like Byakuran at all, and would be happy enough if he went down, but only if Mukuro wasn't brought down along with him.

The trick was to lay low until the trail was over, refrain from helping either side, and make sure no one ever knew he had that video. Ken and Chikusa wouldn't talk, and he'd been keeping a close eye on the girl who'd starred in that particular video - she didn't know everything, but she knew enough to get Mukuro in trouble if she talked. So far, he was safe, and he intended to keep it that way.

He smiled calmly across the table at Byakuran, sipping his shochu. "Of course I haven't forgotten, Byakuran. I may not be helping you, but I'm sure you know that I haven't helped anyone else, either."

Apparently content with that, Byakuran relaxed just a little, smile coming back to his lips. Mukuro felt the little knot of tension in his belly disappear. The other man reached across and took Mukuro's wrist, hand deceptively gentle. "That's very good to hear. Let's do a little business, then."

Mukuro raised an eyebrow. "In case you've gone deaf, I just said I wasn't helping you." His voice was light, the danger past for the moment, though Byakuran's touch on his skin heralded other things - but those, Mukuro had plenty of experience handling.

Byakuran laughed, leaning across the table. "No, this is real business. I want you to send someone to me for a while. This whole 'trial' business is tiring, and I need a way to relax..." He smirked. "Ideally, it would be you, but I'm sure you won't agree to that, Mukuro. So just one of your employees. Think of it as a goodwill gesture. I'll even pay."

"Good. None of my employees would do it for free," Mukuro said, smiling, but inside his mind was working. It seemed to be an innocent enough request on the surface, and Byakuran had requested the same before. It just might be difficult finding someone to agree to go. A long-term job with Byakuran was... dangerous. Though the man could act gentle when it served his purposes, he really wasn't. Particularly in bed, as Mukuro knew well. Still, he was fairly sure someone would agree to it sooner or later in the hopes of receiving the hefty fee that came along with a service like that. "I'll find you someone."

"You never let me down, Mukuro," Byakuran said, the corner of his mouth curling upward into a smirk. "Now, why don't we seal the deal?" His hand tightened on Mukuro's wrist, and Mukuro carefully did not wince. His grip was strong, and it would bruise.

"I didn't agree to that," Mukuro said, smile tightening a little. He knew already that it didn't really matter. Byakuran would get what he wanted regardless, because it wasn't worth it to Mukuro to refuse. It would only sour their relations and make Byakuran angry. And it wasn't as if Mukuro hated it - though Byakuran was far from gentle, he challenged Mukuro in ways that very few other people did. Sex with him was always a thrill, because it was always dangerous. But it would leave Mukuro sore and bruised at a time when he'd really prefer to be on the top of his game, and in addition - Mukuro hated that Byakuran was always so confident he'd get his way, as if Mukuro was already one of his possessions.

Byakuran pushed the small table aside with his free hand. "You know you did the second you let me in here. This is how it always ends." His smile grew, and he moved, pressing Mukuro back against the tatami hard, one hand on the obi holding Mukuro's kimono closed.

"I do always know what to expect from you," Mukuro said, this time letting himself smirk just a little. He found leverage against the tatami, and tensed, ready to lash out.

He'd give Byakuran what he wanted, eventually. But he was in no mood to surrender quietly this evening, and it seemed like Byakuran knew that too, from the pleased, hungry look in his eyes. Mukuro would leave a few bruises on him in return, but Byakuran wouldn't be angry - if anything, he liked it even more when it wasn't easy.

He was a sick fuck, but Byakuran sure could be fun.


	3. Chapter 3

The man was young, too young to really be called a man. Or maybe that was just the way he looked - soft skin, big eyes, an innocent face. His skin was pale, around the bruising, though Hibari couldn't be sure whether that was entirely natural or if it was because he'd been dead for at least a day. Specifics like that were really a job for the crime scene investigators, anyway.

Hibari wouldn't have cared particularly - and didn't, really - except that this was the first murder victim he'd seen on his beat since he came back to the city. Things were peaceful in this part of town, compared to the rest of the city, which was currently caught in a not-so-cold war. Mukuro's influence, he assumed.

So it was strange, he thought, to find a body like this. The boy had been brutally beaten, and the marks on his wrists made it seem as though he'd been bound before death. The bruises were placed with almost clinical precision, as though whoever had done it had had some kind of a plan. Hibari thought that someone in this city had too much time on their hands.

His partner ambled up next to him, frowning at the body. "I called it in, they'll be here soon. Too bad, huh? He looks young. Had his whole life ahead of him."

In Hibari's opinion (the only one that mattered), Yamamoto was too softhearted. He was the kind of police officer who'd rescue kitten and climb trees to get children's kites. Hibari would admit that he seemed competent enough when it came to actual work, but he still considered Yamamoto's kindness a waste of time.

"I doubt he was all that innocent. If he got caught up in something and ended up like this, he was weak," Hibari said, no sympathy in his voice. It was self-evident, after all. In a place like this city, the strong survived and the weak died. That was the story of the human race, carnivores and herbivores.

"Hey, hey..." Yamamoto said with a laugh, one that Hibari was too familiar with already. "We're supposed to protect the weak, you know." He shook his head with a smile. "That's why people join the force."

"No. I'm here because someone needs to keep order. Otherwise all you foolish herbivores will run around causing trouble because you're too stupid to do otherwise." Hibari had no interest in protecting the weak, it was simply something he was forced to do occasionally because of his job. While he hated having a partner, Yamamoto had turned out to be convenient. For some reason the brainless lambs of the city found his idiotic smile reassuring, and so it was easy for him to take care of the inconsequential things like injured children and crying women, leaving Hibari free to attend to more important matters.

Yamamoto laughed again and shook his head, the way he always did when Hibari said something like that. "Anyway, it's weird to find a body here. I wonder if Mukuro knows about it."

Hibari's attention focused on Yamamoto the instant he heard that name. It had been almost a week since his meeting with Mukuro, and he hadn't gone back to the building. Nor had he mentioned it to anyone. In fact, he tried to not even think of it - but that had proved annoyingly difficult.

Unaware of Hibari's interest, Yamamoto glanced over at him. "You think we should tell him? He'd be pretty pissed about a murder on his turf, I think."

He'd wait for a good moment to interrogate Yamamoto about this. Still, Hibari scowled, already feeling his temper rise. "If he didn't dump the body himself."

"Nah, something like this isn't really his style. Besides, he'd never leave a body in his own neighborhood and he'll be angry that someone did." Yamamoto looked like he was thinking, which in Hibari's opinion was a rare occurance. "We ought to tell him, even if he already knows."

"You'd give confidential information about a murder investigation to a criminal?" Hibari's frown remained. No wonder this city was so pathetic.

Yamamoto shrugged. "Yeah, why not? He'd probably help us catch whoever did it. Mukuro's not a bad guy or anything."

"He offered to sleep with me in exchange for helping his... people out if they needed it," Hibari said. He wasn't sure what reaction he'd been expecting, but was nevertheless unsurprised when Yamamoto just laughed again.

"He must really like you! I mean, if he offered himself. I didn't get that much, just an invitation to that place he's got... Mukuro's a pretty funny guy."

Hibari tried to ignore his curiousity. It's not as if Rokudo Mukuro was worth his time, no matter what incredibly embarrassing dreams Hibari might have had. Still, there weren't many things that interested him, and while he'd never admit it aloud, Mukuro was one of them. If nothing else, the man had gotten under his skin. "He tried to make a deal with you?"

"Yeah, back when I started working this beat. I guess that was a couple years ago now... and I've been in to see him a few times since then, when something happened," Yamamoto said, apparently unconcerned by the laws he was breaking. "I mean, he usually already knows what's going on, but it never hurts to be friendly."

"How friendly?" Hibari asked, and regretted it the moment the question passed his lips. Clearly the only solution to his problem would be to kill Mukuro - then there would be nothing left to think about.

Yamamoto didn't seem bothered, just laughing with the usual dopey smile on his face. "Not like friendly friendly. I've never even, you know, done anything at his place - with anyone. My boyfriend would kill me. Just, you know. This is his turf. Stuff like that -" he waved a hand at the body, half-submerged in a drainage ditch, sightless eyes gazing up at the sky - "it's smart to let him know about. He'll want the guy caught as much as we do, and he's got a lot of resources."

Murders were bad for business, Hibari supposed. But more important than that, why had Yamamoto not said anything before? He'd just allowed Hibari to walk into that place. Hibari felt like a fool, which made him want to tear Yamamoto's throat out. Instead, he just looked at Yamamoto, holding back his anger. "Why didn't you say anything before?"

Yamamoto either didn't notice Hibari's anger or didn't care, because he just shrugged, smile firmly in place. "I didn't think it was a big deal." Hibari gritted his teeth and thought of murder, and Yamamoto blinked at him. "Why? Is there something you want to know?"

It was an effort that he was very unwilling to make, but Hibari pushed aside his homicidal impulses in favor of learning more about Rokudo Mukuro (another target of those impulses, and other ones that he didn't even want to think about).

"How long has that place been there?" was his first question. Hibari wasn't sure exactly what kind of information would be useful in his dealings with Mukuro, but as it was, Mukuro knew far more about him than the other way around. Hibari hated being put at such a disadvantage.

"The place itself... I don't know, a long time. At least twenty years. Mukuro's not the first owner. I don't know much about the lady who was in charge before, either - that was way before my time." Yamamoto paused for a moment to listen to the crackling voice from the radio in their car. "Sounds like they'll be here in just a few more minutes." He grinned at Hibari's expression of frustration.

"They're lucky this guy is already dead," Hibari said. It was true that the force had a lot of work since Byakuran's arrest, but Hibari still thought they were slacking off. Sawada didn't enforce discipline well enough. He nodded curtly at Yamamoto, a cue to continue.

"Oh, right... yeah, I guess he took over maybe eight years ago? Before the Millefiore showed up, anyway. And the whole Japanese thing - you know, the kimono and stuff? The lady who ran it before him had this whole story about how she was a former geisha. So maybe it's a legacy or something." Yamamoto shrugged.

Hibari doubted that was the case. The chances that Mukuro had inherited ownership of the brothel in a peaceful manner were slim, in his opinion. More likely he'd kept the kimono and Japanese theme because they amused him. Then again, who knew why Mukuro did anything?

Still, he couldn't quite believe it. Eight years ago? Mukuro looked like he was around the same age as Hibari, his mid-twenties. He'd have to have been a teenager when he took over the brothel. On top of that, he acted as if he knew Hibari, when Hibari doubted that was possible. He'd been away from the city since he was a child, and apparently Mukuro had been busy with other things.

He was on the verge of asking another question when he spotted lights in the distance, coming closer. Yamamoto noticed them too, and straightened from where he'd been leaning against the side of their squad car. "Looks like it's time to get back to work. Hey, I don't know much more, but we can talk about Mukuro later if you want." He looked at Hibari, eyes a little too keen, and Hibari scowled. He really didn't want the entire force to know he was interested in Rokudo Mukuro, and Yamamoto was too talkative - and Hibari hadn't meant to show his interest so openly.

"No. What a waste of time," Hibari said, and looked away. He was silent for a moment, listening to the sirens coming closer. "But I'll be the one who tells him about this."

It would have been hard to ignore the grin Yamamoto had after hearing that, but Hibari's solution worked well enough. He simply pretended Yamamoto didn't exist until the other cars pulled up and they both had even more work to do.

***

It was late that night before Hibari went to see Mukuro. Apparently he wasn't expected this time, because he was left to cool his heels for almost half an hour before the blank-faced receptionist let him go upstairs. He didn't rate a guide this time, either.

The halls were quiet, though considering the time of day, Hibari doubted that the rooms behind the doors he passes were empty. Luckily, he heard nothing and therefore could easily ignore whatever business was being transacted.

He pushed the shoji door to Mukuro's room open without knocking. Mukuro had been informed he was coming, after all - Hibari had heard the receptionist's half of the conversation downstairs. And sure enough, Mukuro was just where Hibari expected him to be: lounging on an embroidered cushion on the tatami, kimono arranged artfully around him.

Hibari could admit privately that it was an attractive sight, but there was no force in the world that could have made him say it aloud. Besides, the effect was ruined by the annoying smug smile on Mukuro's face, which only made Hibari want to bite him.

And not in a sexy way, either.

(Probably.)

The lacquered tea tray was set to one side this time, instead of between them, which was fine because Hibari had no desire for tea this evening. He sat on the other cushion, facing Mukuro, and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Mukuro laughed, looking at Hibari, and said, "I was starting to think you wouldn't come back. What brings me this rare honor?" His eyes were studying Hibari intently, but Hibari didn't blink. He wouldn't allow Mukuro to get the upper hand this time. He had come here for a reason, and no amount of knowing smiles from Yamamoto or smoldering looks from Mukuro were going to change that.

"There was a murder," he said. "We found the body this morning, not far from here."

"I know," Mukuro said, and smiled. It was a tight-lipped smile, and somehow he managed to convey a world of displeasure in those two words. "I'll be looking into the matter on my own. I'll let you know if I find anything."

There was something insincere in his voice, but frankly Hibari wasn't sure whether that meant anything or whether it was just Mukuro's way. Silence fell between them for a moment, until Mukuro smiled again.

"But that's not all you came here for... right?" His smiled was once again knowing, smug, and entirely irritating. Hibari scowled and opened his mouth to speak, but suddenly Mukuro had crossed the distance between them. His lips were next to Hibari's ear, his hand on Hibari's thigh. "Did you think about our conversation?" Mukuro said, breath ghosting across Hibari's skin.

Of course he had. And he'd been thinking about coming back to this place, but it had felt like it would be letting Mukuro win. Now he was here, and he hadn't only come for Mukuro, so he hadn't lost anything. Hibari could do as he pleased with a clear conscience.

And that was as far as Hibari bothered thinking, because Mukuro's hand was moving up his thigh. He gripping Mukuro's wrist, ignored the faint gasp, and pulled the man off balance so Hibari could kiss him hard enough to take his breath away. If they did this, it would be at his pace, not Mukuro's.

Even so, he could feel Mukuro smile against his lips and hear that soft, pleased laugh. Hibari bit his lip hard, not sure if he was trying to punish Mukuro or please himself - not that it really mattered.

Mukuro had gotten his hand free somehow and was making quick work of Hibari's pants. That Mukuro could apparently unbutton and unzip someone's pants with one hand while at the same time pressing rough kisses down their neck didn't surprise Hibari at all, though he didn't have any desire to think too hard about it.

Things were moving a little too fast for Hibari's tastes, but he couldn't convince himself to slow anything down - Mukuro had straddled one of his legs, kimono falling rather askew, and was busy slipping a hand down his pants. The kisses and bites Hibari pressed to his lips didn't give him pause, not even when Hibari began to let his mouth move downward.

He pushed Mukuro's kimono off his shoulder with a rough movement. Kissing down Mukuro's neck, he bit none too gently at the tender place where Mukuro's pale neck met his shoulder, and was rewarded with the first unguarded sound he'd gotten from the man: a choked, breathy gasp. Hibari smirked and leaned close to see if he could tease out any more noises - then he saw Mukuro's body for the first time in the dim light of the room, and froze.

The last time they'd met, Mukuro had let his kimono slip off his shoulders, slide open just a little, and flash some leg. He hadn't done it this time, and Hibari hadn't really thought there was any particular reason - he didn't know Mukuro very well, after all. What was normal for the man? But now he knew why.

Mukuro was covered in bruises. They were at least a couple days old, because some of the smaller ones were already fading, but there were plenty that were still very dark and ugly - purples and blues, not the kind of thing Hibari thought he would see on a man like Mukuro. He knew he only saw a fraction of the whole - the only parts of Mukuro that were bare were his shoulder, part of his chest, and one long slim leg, but none of them were unmarked. Hibari couldn't look away.

Noticing Hibari's sudden lack of movement, Mukuro pulled back a little, blinking lazily before smiling as he realized what was going on. "Perils of the job. Do they bother you? Close your eyes." He paused for only a moment to adjust his kimono so the bruises were covered again, but Hibari was not comforted.

Perils of the job? It wouldn't surprise Hibari in the least to discover Mukuro enjoyed rough sex, but he was a police officer. He knew what those kinds of bruises looked like, and if they were just from his 'job' - well, Hibari didn't think sex that rough could be particularly enjoyable. And why would Mukuro allow a client to do that to him? And why was he doing this now? It must hurt to move, much less have sex.

Mukuro, having removed his hand, trailed it down Hibari's belly, but Hibari couldn't react - his eyes were on Mukuro's face, and he caught the faint flash of annoyance on Mukuro's face. It all fell into place easily enough, and Hibari felt anger rising within him. If anything, it made him more aroused, but though he was not and never would be a kind man, he also didn't have it in him to hurt Mukuro when the man was already in such a bad state.

That didn't mean he would be nice, though. "You really are a whore," Hibari said, unable to keep the anger from his voice. "You don't even want me and you're doing this." He caught Mukuro's wrist. "You'd go through with it too, wouldn't you? Even though all you're thinking is how soon you can get me out of here."

"That's not all I'm thinking," Mukuro said with a tight little smile. He didn't seem to feel the need to deny what Hibari said, and that only made Hibari angrier. "But you're right. I'm rather fond of you, and on another day, I'd be more than happy to give you an evening you'd never forget. But I'm afraid you've caught me on a bad day." He wasn't moving, though, still perched half on Hibari's lap, forcing Hibari to look up to meet his eyes. "I don't see why that's a problem, though. Like you said, I am a whore. I'll make sure you enjoy it even if I'm not in the mood."

"Get off me. I'm not interested in used goods." Hibari knew as he said it that it was probably going too far, but he couldn't bite back his anger. Mukuro thought he was the kind of person who wouldn't even care about his injuries? Who'd just take whatever he could regardless of his partner's state or lack of interest? Hibari had a strict code of discipline, and he had his pride. Maybe Mukuro was used to that kind of person, but that was no reason for him to assume Hibari was one of them.

"Oh, please," Mukuro laughed, lightly and cruelly. "You talk big, but you still want me." He moved his hand down, deftly freeing Hibari's hard cock from his pants and underwear. "And you wanted this when you came here." He stroked, and the sensation sparked up Hibari's spine and straight to his brain. He gritted his teeth, and was about to push Mukuro away when Mukuro made the first move. 

A quick move, an adjustment of his weight, and Hibari found himself on his back on the tatami, Mukuro pinning him down mostly by virtue of his long limbs. Mukuro's lips were on his neck and his hand moved unmercifully, surrounding Hibari's cock. He laughed again, nipping at Hibari's skin, and Hibari tried to control himself.

"See? It's obvious you want me, or else you wouldn't have come here. Does it hurt your ego that I don't want you?" Mukuro was murmuring in his ear now. His voice was low, and while the words only made Hibari's anger stronger, the tone sent a spike of arousal through his gut. Hibari barely kept from thrusting into Mukuro's clever hand, not that it mattered. Mukuro wasn't drawing this out at all, and Hibari was already finding it difficult to breathe steadily. He couldn't say anything.

"Don't let it, Kyoya. I want you. I was hoping you'd come in a few days, when I was all better and I could do everything... all the dirty little things I've been thinking about doing to you, with you. You just chose the wrong time to come back, that's all." Mukuro kissed Hibari's ear and did something incredible with his hand that made Hibari gasp, regardless of his attempts to control himself. "And then you had to go and say those things to make me angry..." He sat up just a little, enough so he could look at Hibari's face.

"You want me. Even now, when you're so furious with me. Disgusted with me, too. I'm not as bad as all that... don't forget this, Kyoya." It might have been a trick of the light, and Hibari knew he was in no state to trust his senses. But when their eyes met, and Mukuro kissed him, Hibari could have sworn there was something else there, something besides the anger. He just wasn't sure what, and a second later he couldn't think about anything at all.

"Don't forget how much you want me," Mukuro said, and with one last languid stroke of his hand he sent Hibari over the edge. Hibari didn't cry out, barely made a sound when he came, but it wasn't because of control - it was because he couldn't think of anything but the pleasure. He was only barely aware of Mukuro's weight, Mukuro's eyes on him, and while he knew both those things should bother him, none of that mattered. Nothing mattered for one brief moment.

He came back to himself breathing hard, muscles relaxing and a feeling of lazy pleasure spreading through his body. It didn't last - he wouldn't let it last. He didn't want to spend any time sorting out the tangle of confused emotions inside him, and so he fell back on the most familiar one. Hibari's anger came back with a vengeance, and hearing Mukuro's breath and smelling his scent only refined it to a sharper point.

Hibari pushed Mukuro off him roughly (and later, he would try not to think about how easy it had been - how he could have done it before if he'd really wanted to), and stood. He didn't say anything, and now Mukuro was silent too. He could feel Mukuro watching him still, from where he was sprawled on the tatami, but he didn't look that way.

With quick, jerky movements Hibari cleaned up as best he could, zipped up his pants, and left. It was because he was angry, he told himself, and surely Mukuro was used to that kind of thing anyway. He tried to lose himself in his anger and forget the things Mukuro had said, forget how good it had felt and forget how for a moment after it was over, all he could think about was how much he wanted more.

It worked, to a point. He left the building without looking back, without wavering in his anger. But it burned that he was running away from Mukuro again, and most of all, it burned that he couldn't wipe the sound of those words from his mind.

_"Don't forget how much you want me."_

That was impossible.


	4. Chapter 4

It was almost a week after Hibari's visit that Byakuran finally deigned to come see Mukuro. His delay was a calculated insult, and Mukuro knew exactly what was going on. Byakuran was trying to goad Mukuro into overplaying his hand. He refused to let himself be manipulated, though - and if he repeated that over and over, maybe he'd have the resolve to swallow his anger until their meeting was over.

Mukuro didn't pretend to be welcoming this time. There was no tea, no shochu. He smiled when Byakuran entered his outer rooms, but made no attempt to cover up the disdain in it. Byakuran smiled as well, as smugly superior as always.

He gestured for Byakuran to sit, which the other man did, looking around. "Your hospitality seems somewhat lacking today, Mukuro," he said cheerfully.

"I didn't realize that you came here for my hospitality," Mukuro responded. "Why don't we get down to business?"

"What, no flirting? No tea?" Byakuran laughed, leaning back and surveying Mukuro with a smirk. "You're so adorable when you're angry."

Mukuro's smile was thin. For once, he was in no mood for games - especially not Byakuran's games. But he forced himself to control his temper. It was fine if Byakuran knew he was angry, but if he discovered how deeply Mukuro's anger ran, Mukuro would be in trouble. He couldn't allow Byakuran to have any more power over him.

"Well, you've left me at quite a disadvantage. Not only are the police conducting a murder investigation in this district, but I seem to be down one employee." Mukuro widened his eyes, as if the mere thought surprised him. He kept his voice light, with an effort.

"Hmm, that does sound like a problem," Byakuran said, giving every appearance of enjoying himself greatly. "Who could have been so careless?"

"You've anticipated my question, it seems. The last time I saw my dear young Leonardo alive, he was accepting a job with you for an unspecified period of time. Then he walked out the door, safely escorted by two of your goons - I'm sorry, your associates. And now--" Mukuro slid a photograph across the tatami to Byakuran - "this." He didn't look at the picture himself. He'd seen enough of the boy's bruises and sightless eyes. Mukuro held no fear of death, but simply looking at it made him angry, and he couldn't afford that right now.

Byakuran's eyes widened in an act that Mukuro was sure was as fake as his own. "How terrible! Well, I can assure you that I never saw poor - Leonardo, was it? In fact, I was going to ask if you'd forgotten about the deal we made." He sighed, and touched the photograph. "What a sad fate. I'm so sorry, Mukuro, he must have been targeted by my enemies when they discovered I'd asked for a little company. It's a terrible thing... why don't we discuss reparations? Of course, I'll repay you for losing one of your precious men."

His eyes were bright, and his all his words of apology rang false in Mukuro's ears. None of it meant anything, of course, but Mukuro played the game. He retrieved table and tea (freshly prepared by Chrome) and settled in for negotiations, weighing the gold that would pay for the life of Leonardo Lippi. Mukuro felt detached from it all, so consumed by anger that he felt it was a miracle he didn't burst into flames - but none of it showed. He was a professional, and he kept himself under iron control, smiling and saying all the right things.

Eventually it was decided. Leonardo had no dependents, so there were few loose ends. Byakuran agreed to take care of the police investigation, as well as cutting Mukuro a fat check and paying for all the funeral arrangements - Mukuro would not let one of his employees go unmourned.

It was something, but it was far from sufficient in exchange for a human life.

Byakuran set his teacup down with a sigh, that infuriating look of mockery still in his eyes, though his words were all sincerity. "It really is incredibly sad, Mukuro, and I hope you're not too upset. These things happen in our line of work, you know. You have my regrets, and of course if there's anything I can do to help..."

"I'll be sure to let you know if there's anything you can do," Mukuro said, and stood as Byakuran did.

"Please do. I'll take my leave, then. I'm sure you're in no mood to entertain me this evening." Byakuran leaned close and kissed Mukuro - gently, slowly, almost as if they were real lovers. Different from any kiss they'd shared before.

Mukuro did respond, and when Byakuran moved away, there was the barest hint of a smirk at the corners of his mouth. "Take care, Mukuro, I'd hate to see anything happen to someone else." Then he turned and left.

Mukuro stood silently, listening to Byakuran's steps move down the hallway to the elevator. He heard the doors open and close, counting off five seconds after that for good measure. Then he picked up Byakuran's empty teacup and hurled it against the wall with all his strength. The delicate cup shattered into a million pieces, but Mukuro felt no less angry.

Every word out of that man's lips had been a lie. Byakuran had killed Leonardo Lippi - Mukuro knew, and Byakuran knew he knew. He'd been forced to play Byakuran's humiliating little game, forced to accept his apology and his insignificant repayment for a man's life.

But what could be do? He couldn't confront Byakuran any more directly than he had. And he had no way of making the man pay without losing every advantage he had and painting a target on himself. That was what Byakuran wanted, after all, and he couldn't fall into his trap because of one death. He couldn't even do it because of his own pride.

If he tried to take revenge, if he used the tape or any of the other little bits of incriminating evidence he had, he'd be playing right into Byakuran's hands. Mukuro was sure of it. There was no other reason for Byakuran to do this. So he had to take it, the humiliation and the anger, and he had to pretend nothing was wrong.

He wished he'd poisoned Byakuran's tea.

He wished he'd killed Byakuran while the man was sitting smugly across from him, secure in his power.

And he wished he hadn't sent Leonardo Lippi to Byakuran, to his death.

It might have been easier if it hadn't been him. Mukuro had no family, and did not consider the men and women in this place to be surrogate family - he was their boss, they were his employees, nothing more. He had the responsibility to look out for them, but he also had the responsibility to get rid of them if they became a threat or a liability to the establishment itself. It didn't happen often, but when it did, Mukuro took care of it. He couldn't allow them to be 'family'.

But Mukuro hadn't always been who he was now, and back then, when he'd lived on the streets before coming to the brothel called 'Tsukimi' (where he quickly made his way to the top), he'd picked up a few strays.

Ken and Chikusa had been with him the longest, since they were all little brats stealing and begging, and Mukuro had just been the smartest and most vicious. He'd earned their loyalty, turned the tables on some of the stronger and older boys who saw them as prey, and they'd followed him ever since.

Chrome had come later, when Mukuro had seen some echo of himself in the abandoned little sick girl. Leonardo had been the last, Mukuro had only taken him in a year or so before coming to the brothel, so they were never as close - but he had been loyal. When Mukuro left them, with the promise to return in a year and give them better lives, Leonardo had waited patiently with the other three (who would have followed Mukuro to hell and back by then).

And Mukuro had kept his promise, returning ten months late as the new owner of Tsukimi. He'd given them jobs and a home, and Leonardo had been the only one who'd chosen to work as a whore rather than in a more administrative position.

Mukuro had never had the same connection with Leonardo that he had with the others, but they'd had a shared past. Now and then he'd helped Chrome, which was why he'd gone to Byakuran's this time. He had brought Mukuro dinner after Byakuran's visit, when Mukuro was too bruised and achy to get out of bed, and Mukuro had asked him to find a volunteer for the job. Leo had offered to do it himself, saying that he could handle it and he might learn something useful.

That wasn't why he had been killed. Byakuran had always been well aware that any of Mukuro's employees he allowed close to him would be direct lines of information to Mukuro. He'd never cared. Byakuran had done this to make Mukuro angry, make him slip up.

He was angry. He was furious. Leonardo's death did not hang on his conscience the way it might for some people - he regretting sending him there, but Mukuro wasn't that kind of person. He knew the blame fell entirely on Byakuran. But he was furious that he couldn't get revenge, that he couldn't make Byakuran pay for this death. Revenge for one life was not worth sacrificing everything he'd worked for.

Most of all, he was furious that Byakuran had put him in this position.

Practically shaking with fury, Mukuro left the tatami room - his 'receiving room' - and retreated to his real, private set of rooms. Picking up the phone, he told Chikusa he wouldn't be accepting any visitors until further notice. He knew that Chikusa would take that, and the anger in his voice, as a sign that Mukuro was to be left alone - by everybody.

Those orders stood for three days.

There were no special guests or crises that demanded Mukuro's attention, and there was also nothing to take out his anger on. He'd calmed since his initial burst of anger, but he was still in no mood to focus on the day-to-day operations of the brothel. Chrome could handle it alone for a few days, anyway.

Instead, Mukuro had gone through all his files and resources, picking out every tiny thing he had on Byakuran. Most of it was useless, but besides the tape (which he couldn't use without screwing himself over completely) there were a few things that could cause him some trouble. Mukuro just wasn't sure if it would tip the scales too much, overplay his hand in just the way Byakuran wanted. He spent those days plotting and planning, then discarding those plans when they proved unwise. Nothing worked - deep inside, Mukuro knew he had to wait, that there was no way to safely get revenge right now, but he didn't want to admit it.

On the evening of the third day, Chikusa called Mukuro's rooms.

"Sorry, boss. I know you said no visitors, but..." Chikusa sighed the sigh of the put-upon, "your police boy is here and he won't go away." There was a pause. "He's being unpleasant. I'll tell him to get lost again, now that he's seen that you really don't want to see anyone." Chikusa's words were ever so slightly barbed, and Mukuro presumed that Hibari was standing by the desk, listening to him.

"Do that," Mukuro said. He started to hang up the phone, the paused. "No, wait. Send him up."

Chikusa was silent for a moment, which was the most surprised reaction Mukuro could expect from him. Then he said "All right," and hung up the phone.

It only took a few minutes before Hibari pushed open the door to Mukuro's rooms, and by then Mukuro was waiting for him in the tatami room. He smiled when he saw Hibari, though Hibari was scowling as usual. "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away."

For a moment, it had looked like Hibari was about to say something, but Mukuro's words had cut him off. He looked angry, but he didn't step towards Mukuro. "As if I would want to see you," Hibari said. "You pathetic herbivore."

This was exactly what Mukuro wanted, and he was the one to close the distance between them, step close and whisper in Hibari's ear - "Then why did you come?" He slid his hand down Hibari's shirt, slowly, until Hibari grabbed his wrist and stopped Mukuro inches from his waistband. Mukuro kept talking anyway, and Hibari's grip grew tighter and tighter. "You have no other reason to want to see me personally. You came with some rather adult things in mind, didn't you, Kyoya? Not that I mind... just lay back and let me take care of you."

"No," Hibari said, but he didn't push Mukuro away - instead, Hibari pulled him closer and kissed him. It wasn't a teasing kiss like Mukuro's usually were. It was harsh, almost painful, close to overwhelming even for a man like Mukuro. He could feel the passion and anger bubbling to the surface.

It was perfect.

Mukuro laughed, low, against Hibari's lips. In return he received a sharp bite on his lower lip and Hibari's tongue thrust into his mouth. Twisting his wrist, Mukuro loosened himself from Hibari's grip without breaking their kiss, easily unbuttoning Hibari's pants.

Hibari barely seemed to notice, pushing at Mukuro's kimono to bare his shoulders. Then he was pressing rough kisses down Mukuro's neck, fingers fumbling at his obi.

Neither of them wasted any time, and there was little gentleness in this. Hibari's passion was fueled by anger, or at least irritation, and Mukuro - Mukuro wanted it rough enough to make him forget all the things weighing him down. He wanted pain and pleasure intense enough to pierce through the fog surrounding him.

Hibari was giving him exactly what he needed.

Without hesitation, Mukuro wrapped his hand around Hibari's cock, stroking at a fast pace. Hibari growled and bit his shoulder hard enough to make Mukuro cry out in something like pain. Then Hibari pushed them both down, splaying Mukuro across the tatami and kissing him again, shoving the folds of the kimono out of the way so he could touch Mukuro's thigh, palm his cock, make him gasp.

"Aren't you pushy..." Mukuro managed to get out through his gasps, letting go of Hibari to push his shirt off, running slim fingers across that surprisingly well-toned chest.

"I'm not going to bend over for you," Hibari growled, moving his hand roughly and making Mukuro moan.

"That's good," Mukuro said, managing to smirk somehow. "Because I'm changed my mind. I want you to fuck me. Hard."

There was a spark of lust in Hibari's eyes when he heard those words. Mukuro kissed him again, hard, tasting blood from his bitten lip and not caring at all. This wasn't a game like the ones Byakuran was fond of, pain because he enjoyed inflicting it, this was something else - pleasure and passion, dominance and lust, emotions too tangled up finally being released. It didn't feel like a game at all. It felt like real desire.

Hibari pressed Mukuro against the tatami, spreading his legs with one hand. He was not gentle in preparing Mukuro, though he accepted the lube Mukuro had hidden in one sleeve. Still, his fingers inside Mukuro were quick and rough enough that Mukuro slid one hand down his body to touch himself, a lazy movement that counteracted Hibari's urgency.

For a brief moment, Hibari watched Mukuro touch himself, breath coming fast. Then he moved his hand, brushing the place inside Mukuro that made him arch his back and stifle a cry of pleasure. Reaching out, Mukuro tangled his fingers in Hibari's short hair and pulled him closer, wrapping one long leg around Hibari's waist.

Hibari kissed Mukuro hard one more time as he removed his fingers, and then Hibari entered him in one strong thrust. Unable to hold back a moan, Mukuro let his hand slip to Hibari's shoulder, holding on to him.

"More," Mukuro gasped out, fingers digging in.

"Shut up," was Hibari's curt response, but his breathing was labored. He started to move, slow at first but building up until it was fast and rough and perfect, their bodies moving together in an intense rhythm that chased every other thought out of Mukuro's head - the only things left were their moans, his pleasure, the feeling of Hibari's cock moving inside him.

It felt like forever - but not quite long enough - before Hibari tensed, hands tightening on Mukuro's hips. He moaned as he came, eyes still on Mukuro, hungry in a way that Mukuro should be used to. But there was something about it that was too much, more than he'd expected, and it sent him over the edge as well.

His orgasm was intense and amazing and exactly what he needed, even if it couldn't entirely chase away the memory of how Hibari had looked at him.

Afterwards, Hibari's weight settled on him as they both rested, spent, breathing hard. Mukuro was still holding on to the other man. He didn't want to move at all, he felt so limp and relaxed.

He also felt oddly grateful, which was not an emotion Mukuro was used to feeling after sex. But Hibari Kyoya had unknowingly given him just what he needed to break himself out of the frustrated, angry rut Byakuran had put him in. Release, pure and simple, with no strings attached - Mukuro could not help being grateful.

Plus the sex had been incredible.

After some time, Hibari moved, pulling out of Mukuro and rolling off him. He sat up partway, looking like he didn't know what he should do now. Leave? Stay? He said nothing.

Mukuro was tempted to let Hibari decide on his own - the ensuing awkwardness would no doubt be entertaining. But there was that lingering gratefulness, as well as the strange affection he had for this man.

He sat up as well, and pulled Hibari close again for a long kiss, much gentler than the ones they'd shared earlier. When they separated, Mukuro smiled at him. "It's late. Why don't you stay tonight?"

For a moment Hibari looked at him as if he were insane. Then he shrugged and looked away, almost embarrassed. "All right."

Mukuro didn't think about what he was doing, how he never let clients stay the night - or why Hibari might be special. He would do what he wanted for this one night, and deal with whatever the consequences might be.

One night for himself was more than he'd had in a long time.


	5. Chapter 5

It was strange to wake in a bed that was not his own. It was even stranger to wake next to someone, hearing their soft breathing and feel their warmth.

Hibari didn't know how he'd ended up here, after leaving Mukuro in a rage the last time they met. He'd resolved to stay away, forget about the way Mukuro so easily stirred the lust he normally kept tightly locked away. He'd been so sure it would be easy. The man was too irritating to think about anyway.

As last night had proved, though, Hibari had failed miserably.

He didn't bother thinking about why, not ready to face that yet. More immediate was why he had accepted Mukuro's offer to spend the night. What they'd shared hadn't been gentle, loving, or even kind. And yet Mukuro had seemed calmer, more open to Hibari after that. Would he share a bed with someone he didn't care about.

Part of Hibari wanted to say yes, that Mukuro was a whore so of course he'd have no problem with that kind of thing - but the rest of him knew it wasn't true. And even if it was, Hibari was not a client, he hadn't paid Mukuro anything for the night before.

He felt Mukuro stirring next to him and repressed the urge to just get up and leave. Even if Mukuro wouldn't be surprised by something like that, Hibari held himself to a higher standard.

He also had to admit to some curiosity about all this.

The normal thing would be awkwardness, and Hibari fully expected that. So he was surprised when it didn't really happen. Mukuro did seem surprised as well, but that was more likely due to the fact that Hibari was still there. Otherwise, he acted as if it were any other morning, as if they'd done this a hundred times.

By the time they were eating breakfast, Hibari felt rather relaxed. A thin girl with big eyes had brought the food - fruit and bacon, toast and coffee, completely ignoring the Japanese style of the rest of the place - and she'd looked surprised to find that Hibari was actually there. She'd brought a meal for two, and Hibari was sure that him being there was not a secret, but apparently this was rare enough to surprise the other inhabitants. Oddly, knowing that helped Hibari relax.

Mukuro poured the coffee for him. The long-haired man was once again wearing a kimono, but the pattern and colors were more subdued than Hibari had seen him wear before, almost as if he were relaxed as well.

"Cream? Sugar?" Mukuro asked, smiling slightly at him across the small table in Mukuro's rooms. Hibari had only seen the main tatami room before, not these private chambers. They were more comfortable and live in, though they were still Japanese style.

"Cream, no sugar," Hibari replied. He watched Mukuro stir in the cream. His hands were graceful, with long fingers. The nails were sharp too - Hibari had found vivid red scratch marks on his shoulders when he'd borrowed Mukuro's shower earlier.

They ate in silence until Mukuro broke it with a raised eyebrow and a quiet laugh. "I was surprised to see you last night. When you stormed out of here before, I didn't think you'd ever come back." Mukuro's sly smile made it obvious he'd thought nothing of the sort - he'd probably been absolutely certain that Hibari would return sooner or later. Strangely, his smugness only made Hibari want to strangle him a little bit.

"Someone made me think of you," Hibari answered with a shrug. It was true enough.

"You weren't in a very good mood," Mukuro said, eating a slice of apple and licking his fingers clean in a display that momentarily distracted Hibari.

"Neither were you," Hibari eventually said, and then some stupid impulse made him ask, "Did I hurt you?" Not that he really cared, but Hibari didn't want to be the same as whoever had left those bruises before. He was not quite that callous.

"No," Mukuro said. "Well, I am a little sore, but you should take that as a compliment." He winked at Hibari, and Hibari rolled his eyes. "Are you worried? I promise I don't break easily." He smirked. "No one's managed yet."

"But there are people trying," Hibari said. He was sipping his coffee, but his eyes were fixed on Mukuro, and he caught the barest flicker of something - doubt? fear? anger? - before it disappeared and Mukuro smiled again.

"Isn't that the story of life?" Mukuro asked lightly. "And where have you been hearing such things?"

Hibari chose his words careful, aware he could be treading dangerous ground. "I met a friend of yours."

"I have many friends," Mukuro said. Hibari seriously doubted that, but he continued anyway.

"I'm sure you'd remember this one. Tall, white hair, ridiculous tattoo under one eye." Hibari saw Mukuro carefully set down his coffee cup, eyes intent on Hibari now.

"And what did my friend say?"

"Plenty of stupid things. I didn't expect much more from a friend of yours." Hibari didn't know or care who the man was, but he'd talked about Mukuro as if he owned him. He'd called Hibari a boy toy, and everything he'd done had pissed Hibari off.

"Such as?" Mukuro's smile was thinner now, so Hibari decided there was no point in holding anything back.

He leveled his gaze on Mukuro. "He said that if I got involved with you I'd be putting my life in danger, and that soon you'd be involved in an exclusive contract that would make things more difficult." Hibari stirred his coffee, watching every emotion that crossed Mukuro's face. "Basically, he told me if I got involved with you, I'd either get dumped or killed."

Mukuro was good at what he did, and someone else might have been fooled by his laugh. "And so you came here? I see reverse psychology works like a charm on you."

"So what he said wasn't true?" Hibari doubted that was the case - he'd come to his own conclusions already, regardless of what Mukuro said, but he'd give the man a chance to speak for himself.

"On the contrary. You should probably take his advice. Things will be changing soon, though maybe not the way my 'friend' told you," Mukuro said. "It won't be very safe for you."

"That's my decision to make," Hibari said. He hated it when people tried to manipulate him. It didn't matter if it was Mukuro or the white-haired man or even his own mother, Hibari would do as he pleased. He met Mukuro's eyes. "Who was your friend?"

"Did anyone see him talking to you?" Mukuro asked, instead of answering Hibari's question. Hibari merely shook his head and waited for Mukuro to continue. After a moment, Mukuro smiled. "That's good to hear. No matter how lenient and ineffective your boss is, I doubt he'd have approved. The man you spoke to was Byakuran Gesso."

Hibari briefly regretted moving back to this city. Not only was his boss incompetent and weak-willed, within two months of arriving here he'd managed to get involved with a brothel owner. From there, he'd someone ended up talking to the man who headed all the 'most wanted' lists, and who was about to go on trial for murder.

He blamed Mukuro.

But it was too late to do anything about it except walk away like he'd been told to, and Hibari was not going to run. He wasn't afraid.

Of course he'd heard of Byakuran Gesso, though he'd never met the man, or even seen a picture. He was infamous by word of mouth only, police documents and rumors. And Hibari was not stupid - he could read enough into Byakuran's words to know he was gunning for Mukuro, and Hibari would find himself caught in the crossfire if he wasn't careful. It was obvious that he'd already been used to carry a message to Mukuro, simply from the way Mukuro tried so hard to keep any expression from his face.

The man in question was toying with a piece of toast, tearing bits off to make a small pile on his plate. He looked up and smiled at Hibari, a strange look in his eyes. "Wait just a moment," Mukuro said, standing up and disappearing into another room. Hibari had not been in that room, but when Mukuro returned with a manila envelope full of documents, he decided it was safe to assume it was an office.

Mukuro sat down across from Hibari again, and they ate in silence for a few moments longer. Finally, Mukuro seemed to come to a decision. He handed the envelope across the table to Hibari with a smile and Hibari took it, though he was unsure what he could be getting himself into this time.

"Take that to your boss for me, would you? And please be careful with it," was all that Mukuro said. Then he sipped his coffee, relaxing as though a weight had lifted from him.

Hibari bit back his initial refusal. He wouldn't allow Mukuro to use him as a glorified errand boy - but he didn't think that was what this was. The look in Mukuro's eyes, his posture, his deliberate attempts to be casual, they all told Hibari that something else was going on. What, he wasn't sure exactly. But would it be so terrible to trust Mukuro, just this once?

Finally, he nodded and put the envelope down without opening it. That was one other strange thing - Mukuro hadn't asked him not to look at the contents. "I'll give it to him later."

They passed the rest of the morning pleasantly enough, until it was time for Hibari to go to work. He was sure that Mukuro needed to work as well, though unsurprisingly Mukuro made no mention of it.

Before he left, Hibari had one last question that he wanted to ask. He waited until he was ready to go, envelope in his hand, and then he looked at Mukuro and asked.

"Was he the one who gave you those bruises?"

There was no need to clarify the question, they both knew exactly who Hibari meant. Mukuro smiled, just a little, though it didn't reach his eyes. That was enough of an answer for Hibari - he couldn't forget the way Mukuro's body had looked, the cruelty it would take to cause those marks. He had no affection for this Byakuran.

Hibari's hand was on the sliding door when Mukuro stopped him - just for a moment, only long enough for a brush of lips, gentle and sweet and barely a kiss at all. It was different enough to surprise Hibari, and he caught sight of Mukuro's strange smile one more time before he left, envelope clutched in one hand.

***

Hibari was no fool, nor was he blinded by love - or lust. He wouldn't pass that envelope on without knowing what the contents were. He was sure Mukuro knew this, which accounted for the conspicuous lack of a request to keep the contents confidential.

He would have felt little remorse either way, this just made it easier.

Work was simple that day, with no emergencies to attend to and nothing much to be found on patrol, either. Yamamoto didn't seem to notice his distraction, luckily - Hibari didn't want to be subjected to questions and endless idiotic laughter.

Finally, he returned to his cold, empty apartment. It was only after he'd showered and eaten that Hibari finally opened the envelope. He spread the contents on his table - a bunch of papers, some photographs, and a small flash memory stick - and got to work.

Three hours later, Hibari was tired and disgusted. Somewhere in the back of his mind, too, he was worried - not for Mukuro, of course. But he was. If Mukuro had this much evidence on a man as powerful as Byakuran, it was no surprise that Byakuran was trying to do something about it. The video on that memory stick alone was enough to get Byakuran in deep trouble, considering his upcoming trial, and everything else - all the little bits accumulated over the years - was just icing on the cake.

Hibari would take it to his boss, as Mukuro had requested. It wasn't something he'd feel comfortable keeping to himself, even if it hadn't pertained directly to an ongoing case.

The only real question that remained in his mind now was, why him? Mukuro could have gotten this data to Sawada Tsunayoshi in a variety of different ways, including giving it to him in person. It was entirely within Mukuro's nature to have some ulterior motive in choosing Hibari to do it. He wouldn't normally care why Mukuro had picked him, having little interest in playing the man's games, except that with something so dangerous there was always the chance he was being set up as a convenient target.

There were other explanations, of course, but none that made as much sense. Why would Mukuro give something like this to Hibari, other than to provide some layer of protection from Byakuran?

Thinking about it made his blood boil. The idea that Mukuro had used him so easily and with no apparent remorse was infuriating. After last night he'd somehow thought things had changed between them - but thinking about it now, it was obvious Mukuro had been manipulating him from the beginning. Mukuro was a whore, to him sex was nothing more than business - a tool, in this case, to get Hibari where he wanted him. Hibari, who wasn't obviously attached to the brothel and who was a policeman - therefore making it seem as if he could have gotten this evidence from anywhere, distracting the blame from Mukuro.

The worst thing was that Hibari would still go along with it. He had no choice, the information was too valuable. Hibari wasn't that fond of Sawada, but he hated people like Byakuran even more - people who delighted in causing chaos and breaking laws.

Mukuro wasn't much different. Hibari had always known that, but he'd let his lust blind him. A stupid mistake. He wouldn't seen the man again, wouldn't allow himself to be used like this. He'd been an idiot.

Hibari tried, that night, to think of a way to play this game like Mukuro had - pass the package on, distract the blame from himself. It didn't last, he got fed up and annoyed with himself and went to bed. He'd do it his own way, he wouldn't lower himself to Mukuro's level.

The next day, he walked into Sawada's office and gave him the envelope. He didn't bother to give an explanation along with it, and found that he rather relished the shell-shocked look on the chief of police's face when he left his office some hours later. He didn't ask where Hibari had gotten the envelope. Maybe he already knew - if so, it would be chalked up to an anonymous informant, in the interest of protecting Mukuro. But half the force had seen Hibari take the envelope in there, and word of that would get out sooner or later, he knew. Whatever happened, the blame could be laid at Mukuro's feet - Hibari would distance himself from the man. It was really all he could do.

And he did. He didn't return to that building, though he saw it nearly every day. He tried not to even think about Mukuro, and told himself it was easy.

Yamamoto claimed he'd gotten even more irritable than he'd been before, but he refused to consider that Mukuro could have that kind of effect on him. Mukuro shouldn't be able to affect him at all. Hibari wasn't thinking about him.

He didn't think about Mukuro for weeks. He didn't think about him at night, alone in his cold bed, and he didn't think about him at work when they passed Tsukimi. Thinking about a man like Mukuro would be a waste of braincells.

Time passed. Byakuran's trial approached. Hibari didn't care, because it had nothing to do with him. Of course he wasn't completely careless either - it would be the height of stupidity to forget the part Mukuro had forced him to play. But despite the precautions Hibari took, Byakuran's revenge failed to materialize. Hibari had almost begun to believe that Byakuran hadn't found out.

Until one day. It was the day of Byakuran's trial, in fact - not that Hibari cared. But he'd woken up early that day (he would never admit he hadn't slept well) and since there was no reason to laze around his empty apartment, he went to work early.

Hibari caught the man before he was in position. He was lurking around the entrance to the alleyway Hibari usually walked through on his way to work - it was early, the man was suspicious. Warning bells went off in Hibari's head, and before he could be spotted he slipped behind one of the other tenant's cars - a gas-guzzling giant that hid him easily.

It wasn't particularly difficult to sneak up behind the fool. Hibari had him disarmed and on the ground, stunned, before he had any chance to react.

Of course, it was always possible that the man might not be dangerous - but Hibari didn't really care. Better safe than sorry. There was a reason he'd held the record for 'most complaints of use of excessive force' for so long at his last job. The only concession he made to the possibility of innocence was to keep his gun holstered.

Luckily, the man - blond and well-built - made no attempt to convince Hibari that he wasn't guilty. He just grinned up at him from the ground, eyes flickered once to the gun Hibari had kicked away from his hand. "Well, damn. You're better than he told me you'd be."

Asking who he meant would be pointless. Hibari looked down at the man with narrowed eyes, adjusting his grip on the police baton he'd used to knock him down. "Are there any more?"

"You mean, do I have backup? No, we figured I'd be able to take you on my own. Guess not..." the man shrugged, apparently not that bothered.

It annoyed Hibari. He was annoyed in general, though, for a variety of reasons. "Get up. We're going to the police station."

"Really? You think there's much point to that? I wasn't doing anything illegal." He nodded at the gun on the ground. "I've got a permit for that."

Hibari bit back a snarl of anger. He loathed how everyone involved with Byakuran seemed convinced they were immune from the law - and most of the time, it was true. Even only being here for a short time, he'd already seen plenty of petty Millefiore minions weasel their way out of trouble on a technicality. "Your boss is going to be in jail soon enough. I wouldn't be smirking like that if I were you."

"Are you sure about that? He's gotten out of some pretty heavy stuff before. He's pissed about what Mukuro did, though." The man laughed. "He's not going down, but if he is, he's bringing you guys down with him."

Not much surprise there. Hibari figured that even if Byakuran had been entirely secure in his victory in the courtroom, he'd want to punish those who had betrayed him. "So he's targeting Mukuro, too." Not that it mattered, Not that he cared - Mukuro deserved it, he could deal with it on his own. He'd brought it on himself, after all.

"Obviously," the man smirked. "You were just a dumb messenger. He's been trying to take Mukuro down since he found out. You're an afterthought. Sorry."

So Mukuro's attempt to use him as a decoy had failed. That should have made Hibari feel better, but it didn't. For some reason, he kept remembering those bruises, dark and painful and caused by Byakuran. "Seems like that hasn't been working out very well, either."

"Mukuro's a slippery bastard. He's hardly poked his head out of that little den of sin since the news got out," the man said with a shrug. "He'll be coming out today for the trial, though, I bet."

Hibari looked at him hard, weighing the baton in his hand. "What do you have planned?" Not that he was going to try to help Mukuro - he was curious, nothing more. Curious, and looking for an outlet for his anger.

"Oh come on, why would I tell you? Though it might be funny to see a guy like you riding to his rescue. What, you think you're some kind of white knight?" The blond man grinned, superiority radiating from every pore. He was looking down at Hibari, even though he was the one on the ground.

Hibari was sick of being laughed at and treated like a fool. He spent the next few minutes expressing this by ensuring that at least this petty criminal wouldn't be causing any more trouble that day - judicious use of the police baton was involved.

Afterwards, walking away from the weakling's unconscious body, Hibari felt much better.

What he'd heard nagged at his mind, though. Byakuran's men were planning to attack Mukuro today. It had nothing to do with him, of course - unless he wanted to go watch and laugh. Surely Mukuro knew about this, or at least would be prepared for the possibility. He would be perfectly fine. The only thing on Hibari's mind should be disappointment that Mukuro wasn't going to get what he richly deserved.

It took more effort than he'd admit, but Hibari pushed the whole incident to the back of his mind and headed to work. Mukuro didn't deserve a moment more of his time.


	6. Chapter 6

Mukuro always took extra care getting dressed when he was going out. It wasn't that common, after all, as he generally preferred staying on his own turf, and it had become much less so since Byakuran had begun trying to take his revenge for Mukuro's 'betrayal'.

But today was a special day, and he wanted to look good. That would make it even more satisfying when he laughed in a convicted Byakuran's face - or, conversely, if Byakuran were set free, at least Mukuro would look good while facing an undoubtedly unpleasant fate.

It was too bad this whole thing was in Sawada Tsunayoshi's hands. Mukuro would have preferred to test his capabilities with something that wouldn't potentially doom Mukuro's business (and possibly his life).

So he dressed as if he were the one going to trial, suit and tie and smile carefully arranged. If Tsunayoshi failed, Mukuro would find some way to bring him down too - he had no illusions that Byakuran would allow him to remain alive after this. Mukuro's chance at survival would only happen if Byakuran were sent to jail. His men served him out of greed or fear, and with him gone the organization would fracture. No doubt some die-hard loyalists would remain, but Mukuro knew they'd be too busy trying to hold things together to try more than a token attempt at removing him.

Provided Byakuran was convicted and received a long enough sentence, Mukuro would be safe - or, if not safe, at least able to leave the brothel without a murder attempt.

He fully expected one today. Byakuran's men knew he would come to the trial - he had considered staying home for that reason, but Mukuro was not the fearful type. He'd bring protection to the courthouse, which would be teeming with police today. It was a risk, but he refused to miss this.

He ate a light breakfast, ignoring Chrome's worried looks, and when he left he took along Chikusa and Ken as well as his best bouncer/handyman, Lancia.

They were almost to the courthouse when the attack came. Mukuro had been careful to choose a route that avoided the majority of Byakuran's territory, but that was difficult to do in a city where the Millefiore had a presence on nearly every block. Still, it was not a particularly well-executed attack - presumably Byakuran had other things on his mind.

While they were stopped at a light, a small compact car pulled up next to them. The windows rolled down, guns came out. It was almost a classic, Mukuro thought idly, relaxing in the backseat as Ken and Lancia returned fire. Of course, both the windows and the frame of this car were reinforced, so he wasn't terribly worried.

Ken laughed wildly as one of his bullets caught one of the thugs in the opposing car in the face. "Morons!"

"We're moving," Chikusa said in the same deadpan tone he used for everything. The light changed and he hit the gas, just as a bullet managed to wing Lancia across the shoulder. He grunted, muttered something that sounded like "Asshole", and leaned out the window. Two sharp gunshots later and the driver in the other car slumped over the steering wheel.

The rest of the drive to the courthouse was uneventful.

When they arrived, Mukuro quickly surveyed his associates. "Ken, take the car and bring Lancia back so someone can look at his shoulder. Chikusa, you'll come with me."

Chikusa nodded and stepped out of the car with Mukuro. Ken took the wheel and the car sped off, making Mukuro briefly regret his choice. Chikusa was easily the most acceptable and least thuggish of them, but Ken didn't have the best history with cars. Mukuro just hoped he'd get it back in one piece.

Mukuro entered the courthouse, Chikusa silent at his side. Though Byakuran's trial wasn't a big news story - the public only knew his as the police chief's alleged murderer, not a kingpin of crime - security was tight. They both had to pass through metal detectors to get in, and everywhere Mukuro looked there seemed to be police guards.

No one knew if Byakuran's men might show up and attempt to 'influence' the outcome of the trial. It was better to be safe.

He recognized many of the officers, of course. Repeat visitors, people he'd bribed, a few boy scouts who'd attempted to bring him in for one reason or another. Nothing in this city was really clean, not even the cops, but collectively they were Millefiore's strongest enemy. They let him through, despite his occasional ties to Byakuran, and Mukuro knew that it was no secret who'd proved some of the evidence that would be used today.

Chikusa said nothing, but he relaxed almost imperceptibly once they were inside and out of Byakuran's easy grasp. Mukuro smiled a little, leading him inside the courtroom - still mostly empty. The trial wouldn't begin for another hour or so, but Mukuro had left early, unsure how long it would take to get there (what with Byakuran's almost certain attack, and all).

They sat, but had only been there for a few moments before they were interrupted. The young chief of police entered the courtroom, eyes sweeping the benches until they landed on Mukuro. Looking rather nervous, Tsuna approached them. "Do you have a minute?" he asked.

Mukuro looked at him silently, watching him get more nervous, before he answers. "Yes," he said, "I suppose I do."

"Maybe not here," Tsuna said, obviously aware of how it would look to be seen having a friendly chat with Mukuro. Most of the people here, police and observers alike, knew who Mukuro was, after all.

"Very well," Mukuro said, suppressing a laugh. It would look even worse to be seen going somewhere private with him, but apparently that hadn't occurred to Tsuna. He stood, gesturing to Chikusa to remain seated, and followed Tsuna out.

Tsuna lead him to a back staircase, private and empty, before turning to him to talk. "Mukuro, thank you. Because of what you gave us, I'm sure we can get a guilty verdict today."

"I'm counting on that," Mukuro said with a smile. "And I'm glad that we have the chance to talk, Tsunayoshi." He leaned close, extending one arm to trap Tsuna against the wall. "You will keep your word, I assume? I expect to have the freedom to run my business intact after this."

Tsuna shrunk back against the wall just a little. "Yes, of course! I won't go back on what I said. We'll leave you alone."

It was amusing how easy Tsuna was to frighten - amusing and annoying, as it didn't speak well for his competence. Mukuro moved back, letting the young man free. "Don't screw this up, Tsunayoshi. If you do, I'll be the first one Byakuran goes after." He smiled. "And if that happens, I'll do everything in my power to take you down with me." He touched Tsuna's cheek, ever so gently. "Don't forget that."

Tsuna was pale, but he found an inner reserve of strength somewhere and stood up straight, meeting Mukuro's eyes. "We'll send him to prison today, Mukuro. I promise that he won't go after you. I'm just glad you changed your mind, whether it was because of me or -" his face went red - "Hibari. I wanted to say thank you."

"Well," Mukuro said, once again feeling like there might be more to this man than the pathetic appearance he usually had, "you're welcome. And I wish your prosecutor the best of luck today."

He meant it sincerely, and Tsuna seemed to realize that. He smiled, just a little shaky, and bid Mukuro goodbye before leaving. Mukuro stayed where he was for a few minutes, kindly letting Tsuna leave without him and possibly avoid more scandal.

It hadn't been Tsunayoshi who changed his mind. It hadn't even really been Hibari. As usual, it had been pure self-interest.

Or rather, he'd had nothing left to lose.

What Hibari had said about his encounter had made Mukuro realize that this time Byakuran wasn't just playing games. He'd been trying to maneuver Mukuro into a weak position where he'd fall to Byakuran's plots easily. He'd spoken to Hibari just to prove that he kept close tabs on Mukuro's visitors, that he could strike at Mukuro through Hibari if it came to that.

In regards to Mukuro and Tsukimi, Byakuran was playing his endgame. Mukuro had no choice, not really. Even though it had undoubtedly been part of Byakuran's plan that he give his information to Tsuna, the only other option was going down without a fight, and Mukuro would never do that.

It was possible, just maybe, that Hibari had played some part in his decision, but Mukuro would never admit that.

Checking his watch, Mukuro had just decided it was time to return to Chikusa's side when he heard a step behind him. He froze, feeling the cold sharp edge of a blade pressed to his neck.

"Don't move," a voice hissed, and Mukuro didn't. He had no weapons on him (and he wasn't sure how this person had gotten a knife in), but that voice was somewhat familiar. He couldn't quite place it, but it was definitely one of Byakuran's men. Mukuro hadn't been killed immediately, so there was always the chance that he could talk himself out of this.

Then the man behind him spoke again, and that hope dwindled when Mukuro recognized his voice. "You're a fool, to betray Byakuran like that." 

It was Genkishi, no doubt about it. Mukuro suppressed a sigh. He really didn't want to die today, but fate seemed to have other plans.

"Byakuran knew I would betray him," Mukuro said, keeping his voice level and staying very still. "He practically forced me too."

"It doesn't matter," Genkishi said, pressing the knife just a little harder against his throat. "You still betrayed him. I won't allow that, and I won't allow you to join us either. Byakuran may want you as a plaything, but it would be like keeping a rabid dog. I'll put you down now and save him the trouble later."

For a moment Mukuro was confused. Hadn't Byakuran tried to kill him, not even an hour earlier? But it hadn't been a particularly serious attack, now that he thought about it. Could it be that Byakuran wasn't trying to kill him, just shake him up and teach him a lesson? But why? "You're disobeying Byakuran?"

Genkishi made a sound that was almost a laugh. "He didn't order us not to kill you. When he walks out of that courtroom, he'll expect you to be begging forgiveness soon enough, but he won't be too broken up if you're dead. I, on the other hand, will be overjoyed."

"You have a lot of confidence in his victory," Mukuro said. Something still wasn't quite right, something he couldn't place.

"There's no way Byakuran would go down for something like this. They've got nothing on him," Genkishi said, sounding almost smug.

Then it hit Mukuro. Byakuran still didn't know about the video. Somehow, against all odds, Tsuna had managed to keep it a secret. Byakuran thought all Mukuro had handed over were bits and pieces of circumstantial evidence. Mukuro laughed, he couldn't help himself. Maybe Tsunayoshi really could pull this off.

Of course, it wouldn't matter if he were dead.

The sharp edge of the knife pressed against his throat, and Mukuro felt a prick of pain as the blade pierced his skin and went no deeper.

"At least I'll never have to hear that laugh again," Genkishi said, and his arm went tense. Mukuro tensed too, quite disappointed to find he was meeting his end like this.

Then there was a sharp thunk and Genkishi dropped the knife, his weight pressed against Mukuro's back for a moment. As the knife fell, Mukuro didn't waste any time in stepping away from Genkishi and turning to face him, unsure whether to expect another attack.

That question was answered quickly. Behind Genkishi stood Hibari Kyoya, looking like he was somewhere on the border between bored and angry. Wielding his police baton (with perhaps too much skill), he knocked the dazed Genkishi down and unconscious as Mukuro watched.

Eyes still on Hibari, Mukuro raised his hand to his neck, feeling the tiny cut Genkishi had left, brushing away a small drop of blood. Then he smiled. "Fancy meeting you here, Kyoya."

Hibari scowled. "The appropriate thing to say would be 'Thank you for saving my life, Hibari'." He slid the baton into its sheath, prodding Genkishi roughly with one foot. The man didn't move, but he seemed to be breathing. Too bad, Mukuro thought.

"I didn't expect to see you here," Mukuro said, ignoring Hibari's words. "Were you assigned to security here too?" It wasn't that far-fetched, Hibari was in uniform so he'd been working at some point recently.

"You're an idiot," Hibari said, and Mukuro summoned up his best fake hurt face, which Hibari easily ignored. "Wandering around by yourself after making enemies with someone like that piece of trash." He nodded toward the courtroom, clearly meaning Byakuran.

"Oh, but look at this place," Mukuro said. "It's positively teeming with your kind. I thought I'd be safe. Policemen are supposed to protect people like me, after all."

"If you're stupid enough to go places alone at a time like this, then you're too stupid to deserve protection," Hibari said, voice cold.

Mukuro smiled and reached out. "But you did protect me."

Hibari stepped back, away from Mukuro's outstretched hand. "I shouldn't have. You set me up to take the fall for you. You would've let me get killed to save your own worthless hide."

"But you didn't, did you? You didn't take the fall, you didn't get killed," Mukuro said. "I knew you wouldn't." And he had.

What he'd done had created the safest possible situation for Hibari. Byakuran had already known about Hibari, after all. If he'd thought the policeman was important to Mukuro, he would have had him killed for certain. Hibari didn't live at Tsukimi, he wasn't under protection the way Chrome or Chikusa or the others were. He would have become the easiest possible target, and as strong as Hibari was, he would have fallen eventually.

So Mukuro had made it seem like he was setting Hibari up to take his fall. That way, Byakuran wouldn't think he was worth seriously targeting - and Mukuro had been confident that Hibari would be able to survive any lesser attacks. Clearly his confidence hadn't been misplaced.

Of course, he hadn't let Hibari in on this plan, so it was no surprise that he'd be a little angry.

Truthfully, Mukuro hadn't expected to see him again.

Hibari looked ever so slightly mollified at Mukuro's words, the acknowledgment of his strength, but the anger in his eyes hardly faded. "I'm not your puppet."

"I know," Mukuro said, letting his hand fall and simply looking at Hibari. "I apologize, Kyoya." He wasn't really that sorry, but something in Hibari's eyes made him want to apologize.

He'd assumed that after this, Hibari would disappear from his life forever, and he'd accepted that as preferable to getting Hibari killed. It wasn't really self-sacrificing - it was more because he owed Hibari. But Hibari had stepped in to save him again, and Mukuro thought maybe that was a sign.

Hibari's frown didn't let up, but Mukuro noticed when he relaxed a little. "You're not forgiven. But I'll walk you back, since apparently you're too much of a fool to protect yourself."

Mukuro smiled. "How kind of you." He wiped the blood from his neck and stepped over Genkishi's unconscious form. As soon as they were out in the hallway again, another officer came ambling up to Hibari, smiling.

"Hey, where'd you run off to all of a sudden? You saw someone and you were gone like a rocket. We're not supposed to be here anyway, and - oh, hi." He'd caught sight of Mukuro and smiled. It took Mukuro only a few moment to place him - Yamamoto Takeshi, Hibari's partner. Mukuro returned his smile.

"It was nothing," Hibari said. "There's someone in the stairwell. Take care of that for me." He barely glanced at Yamamoto, who shrugged and nodded at Mukuro before cheerfully heading for the stairs.

Mukuro smiled at Hibari's high-handedness, but he hadn't missed a word Yamamoto said. They weren't supposed to be here, but here they were. Why? For him? To Mukuro that was almost unthinkable. Hibari wasn't Chikusa or Ken, he had no reason to protect Mukuro and all sorts of reasons to let him die a miserable death.

He glanced at Hibari sidelong, at Hibari's expressionless face. "We've met before, you know."

Hibari's eyes flickered towards him. "I don't remember you."

"I didn't think you would," Mukuro reached out, catching Hibari's arm and stopping him. This time Hibari didn't step away, turning to face Mukuro instead.

"You were very young. So was I... but you've always been the way you are, right?" Mukuro smiled. "I'm sure it didn't even matter to you. But you saved me from some older boys. I imagine you did it because they annoyed you, and not for me at all, but it didn't matter to me at the time."

Mukuro still remembered it. He'd been smart, but scrawny and undernourished, surviving by his wits rather than his fists. He'd also been unlucky enough to get cornered by a gang of larger kids - not street kids, but bored rich boys who liked to play tough. It had been in a well-off neighborhood where Mukuro went occasionally - there were a lot more cops there, so Ken and Chikusa (who were more conspicuous and less clever) didn't usually come with him, but it was a gold mine. It was crazy what rich people just threw out, Mukuro didn't even have to steal most of the time (though it was also crazy that rich people would just leave things in unlocked cars and walk away).

But this time he'd been caught. He hadn't even been doing anything wrong, not yet, but they'd known he didn't belong there. Mukuro had been sure he'd be beaten within an inch of his life (if he survived). It was well known that boys like these could, and usually did, get away with anything. But before they'd managed to do more than knock him around a little and split his lip, Hibari had stepped in.

Even then Mukuro had known it wasn't for his sake. Hibari had barely even noticed he was there, focusing instead on the 'herbivores' that he'd apparently been annoyed with for awhile. He'd taken care of the boys (though not without some damage himself) and left Mukuro there, safe and nearly untouched.

In Mukuro's life, it had always been every man for himself, the only exceptions being the street gangs that formed out of necessity - even that was usually about survival, nothing more. No one had ever done that before, or would afterwards - helping him like that without expecting anything in return. He'd known his life had been saved by nothing more than another boy's whims and annoyance. He'd also known that he owed that boy a debt he wouldn't forget.

He'd taken Hibari Kyoya's student ID, dropped at some point during the fight. Eventually he sold it (an ID from the nicer private schools could fetch a decent sum), but he'd remembered the name, right up until he learned the name of the new transfer who'd be patrolling his district. At that point, miles away from his street kid days, it had been easy to find out anything else he wished to know about the boy who'd once saved him.

Hibari really had grown up rather nicely.

The man in question was quiet for a moment. "I don't remember," he said again. This time his tone was almost but not quite apologetic.

"Like I said, I never expected you to." He'd have been shocked if Hibari had remembered, in fact. It was such a small thing. But now Hibari had saved his life twice - though this time, maybe it hadn't been on a whim.

Mukuro met Hibari's eyes and smiled. "So you see, I don't want you to die."

Hibari scowled, seeming somewhat embarrassed. "I don't particularly want to die either."

"Then we're on the same page," Mukuro said. He reached out and brushed Hibari's cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. Hibari let him. "I hope you can forgive me for what I did."

He saw the slow kindling of some kind of realization in Hibari's eyes, and then Hibari frowned and irritably pushed his hand away. "I'm not weak." But he wasn't as angry as he could have been, so Mukuro wasn't worried.

"No, you're not," Mukuro agreed. "Let's keep it that way, shall we?"

The noise within the courtroom was getting louder, so Mukuro nodded at the door. "I'd better go in."

He turned to go, but before he took a step away, Hibari caught his arm. "Tomorrow night," he said.

It took Mukuro a moment to understand, but then he smiled. "I'll be free. You know where to find me."

Hibari nodded and let Mukuro go, and Mukuro went into the courtroom feeling more optimistic than he probably should.

***

In the end, it wasn't misplaced. Tsunayoshi hadn't let him down. It was a pleasant surprise that Byakuran didn't walk free - Mukuro had had hope, but nothing had been certain. Though he undoubtedly deserved much more, fifteen years in prison should be easily enough time to dismantle the bulk of the Millefiore - if the whole thing didn't implode on itself, which was what Mukuro expected to happen.

He would forever cherish the look on Byakuran's face when he finally saw that video. Thinking of it again even now made Mukuro smile. Byakuran had known where it came from - he'd turned in his seat to catch Mukuro with a cruel, piercing stare. For a moment, Mukuro had been almost frightened, but he'd just smiled coolly at Byakuran. The man had brought this upon himself, and he knew it.

Mukuro was by no means safe - Byakuran would want revenge more than ever, but from prison he wouldn't be able to ensure that it happened. Mukuro had his defenses ready, he would strike first and do what he could to cause the remains of Byakuran's power to crumble away. He still had many contacts in the rest of the Millefiore, after all. He wasn't afraid, though he probably should feel some kind of healthy fear or nervousness. That simply wasn't Mukuro's style, though.

People were filing out of the courtroom now that the festivities were over. Looking across the room, Mukuro saw Sawada Tsunayoshi talking rather earnestly to Hibari.

In a few years, he knew, the mayor would retire. In this corrupt city, Tsuna would almost certainly succeed him. Mukuro was beginning to get an inkling of who the young man might choose as his own successor in the police department, and if Mukuro had his way he'd make that choice reality.

Tsuna owed him a favor, after all.

The future was bright.

He turned to Chikusa and smiled. "Let's go home."


End file.
